


Wren in doubt, act.

by IronRaven



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Family, Other, Sabine Wren of Clan Spectre Ship Ghost, Sabine Wren of Clan Wren House Vizla, Sabine is in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 07:32:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12360717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronRaven/pseuds/IronRaven
Summary: Sabine Wren begins realize she must walk two paths at the same time.





	Wren in doubt, act.

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the Battle of Atollon. I wrote this this spring at the end of Season 3, before we saw any trailers for Season 4. I figured I should post it now, before I"m overtaken by events.

The blue man.

The blue man in white.

The blue man with red eyes.

The blue man was in her room. “Cut it up and bring the art to my headquarters. Then destroy this ship and this base.” He paused. “Belay that- bring me a valance torch. I'll do the cutting myself, then you may destroy everything we leave behind.”

“Yes Sir!” The Stormtrooper officer at the blue man's side saluted crisply. “What to do with the prisoners?”

“Lord Vader will want the Jedi. Retire the clone if it hasn't expired already. And bring the Twi'lek with us. Liquidate the rest.”

“What of the Mandelorian girl, Sir? She is a defector.”

“Which Mando?” The blue man frowned for a moment. “Oh, you mean the artist. Ignore her, she's harmless.”

In the background, she could hear blaster fire and screaming. Fear, terror. Rage. She could feel it, running off Ezra the strongest, like a river high with the spring melt. Ezra. No, he had stop, he had to step back and not give himself to it. Ezra...

-.-- --- ..- .-.   ... .... .. .--.   .. ...   -.-- --- ..- .-.   -.-. .-.. .- -.

“Ezra!” Sabine was looking around wildly, disoriented. This wasn't the _Ghost_. This was her old room, on Krowsnest. But she'd just been on Atollon. Thrawn was on the _Ghost._ In her other room and... and Chopper Base had fallen.

She was standing by her bed, soaked in sweat and fear. She could feel the tears streaking down cheeks. She was home and home was falling. The world was spinning as she tried to determine where she was. She could feel a tear fall from her jaw, and hiss into nothing.

She wasn't on the _Ghost_ , or at Chopper Base. She was home, on Krowsnest, at Stronghold Wren. This house and the troglodytic tunnels and caches hidden under the mountains, the woods and the ponds, this is where she'd grown up.

The darksaber was still ignited in her right hand, with one of her Westars in the left. She looked to the rack for her armour on the other side of the room- this blaster had been in the holster when she'd laid down, and the darksaber certainly had been on her belt. She glanced back her bed. The gold Wesar was by her pillow where she'd left it.

She'd drawn the blue one from it's holster. Of course- it was the one that belonged in her left hand. It's holster was empty, wrapped around the waist of the dummy. The belt was still here. On the other side of the room.

She powered down the darksaber before her legs buckled. She slumped onto the edge of her bed. She looked at her weapons again, and at her armour. On the other side...

“Damn you,” she snarled, glaring at the sword in her right hand. “Damn you Tar Vizla. I don't want everything that goes with... with... this. This sword. Damn you... Damn you Ezra...”

Ezra. She could feel his fear. His and Hera's and Kannen and Zeb. She'd hear Chopper screaming like she never heard before. She could even feel every member of Phoenix Squadron. The sign she'd given them, it was burning. The symbol they wore and followed. And she could feel it.

She continued to look at the darksaber. “I can't do this. I'm not... I can't be...” There was no voice, but she could a wave of... something. Duty. Honor. Purpose. Love. Confidence. In her, to her. Like the one she felt when she put on her helmet, but older, richer. 

Time passed in a glacial silence as she stared at the weapon in her hand.

_Wren._ A thought. A bird.

She set the sword down on her bed next to the gold Westar, reaching for her comlink. It was heavy as the thoughts chased themselves in her mind.

_Ghost._ A ship. A crew.

She set her blue pistol on the bed, so the two of them flanked the Darksaber.

_Team._ A word that Galactic had taken from the oldest of Mando tongues, meaning hearth, meaning family, part of a clan.

It only took a moment to dial the first combination she'd ever learned. As soon as the connection opened, she spoke formally, without pleasantries. “Warrior Sabine Wren requests an audience with Countess Wren as soon as possible.”

_Clan._ Families, together, a family of families. An Alliance of families. Family means that you have someone to watch your back. Someone to cover your retreat. Someone who will come for you when you're outnumbered. Someone who picks you up when you're injured, and will stand for you when you fall. A hand raised with yours, a voice to speak with yours. It gives you a past, it gives you a future. Family.... a ship, a building, becomes home with a family in it. Without a family, it's just a shelter. 

“Sabine, I was just about to ask you to report to the Hall. It seems your young Jedi friend is in trouble, he just requested permission to land. He has one of our ships, and he sounded... desperate.”

“Right away, Mother.”

Sabine was already wearing the skintight that formed the first layer of the armour. She dressed quickly, holstering her weapons, checking that she had spare power packs and her tools and various explosives. She hesitated before picking up the darksaber. She felt the warmth brush against her. “Damn it, Ezra.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do believe that Sabine is Force sensitive. That she can wield the Darksaber isn't a big deal- other people carried lightsabers, thousands of years ago. But she moves like a Jedi, humans can only leap like that in low gravity or if they using some kind of levitation mechanism. She's a polymath, a prodigy, a trait common to the Jedi. She did make a serious showing of herself against Inquisitors, Dark Jedi. Kannan said it wasn't a matter of her not having the Force, but was closed to it. And the Bindu seemed to think she was worth waking up to check out, maybe he even moved there to watch her training. 
> 
> Sure, the Bindu might have been checking what those two halfwit Jedi were doing in his backyard, but she found him. He was the pine cone rock she sat on when she couldn't hide from herself on any more. He was safe. And honestly, the Force Moose would scare the hell out of me. 
> 
> ~~Then again, I'm sticking to my belief, at least for a week, that we're going to find out that her father is Korkie. Who I believe is the son of Duchess Satine Kryz and Obi-wan. And unless your name is Pablo Hidalgo or David Filoni, you can disagree with me, but you won't change my mind until we're shown otherwise by Filoni and Hidalgo.~~
> 
> And feel free to call out my jokes. There a lot of them in here. Or test your memory of Morse, if you ever learned.
> 
> Update: Well. Now we know. That wasn't Korkie. Pity. It really would have been nice.


End file.
